Grey
by Wai - Aki
Summary: [Face the night time line: 3 out of 5] One Irish assassin recalls a conversation he had with Ken. How do two different madmen converse?


Gray

Story by Solaris

Warning: Implied BradKen. Thoughts of a madman. Strange, strange fic.

Disclaimer: We own nothing

Cat-like yellow eye glowed brightly. He blinked, maybe once, maybe twice. He couldn't really tell. The knives were laid out neatly in front of him. He was ready with the rituals. Yet...his mind drifted away.

But strangely, it didn't drift away the way it usually does. The voices didn't consume him and he wasn't pulled into the darkness. Instead, he found that his vision is enveloped by gray.

And it wasn't until the memory played in his head that he realized what he was remembering.

"You're missing one." A quiet voice said. Yellow eye shifted to the younger male who sat down next to him. His gaze was on the knife collection he had laid out neatly in front of him.

No one usually bothered with him whenever he would start this ritual. He didn't know whether or not because they didn't dare to or because they didn't care for it much. He was the madman so there was no reasoning in him.

"How do you know?" He questioned the cat. Green eyes glittered, amusement evident.

"We've been introduced more than once. I believe she and I are good friends by now." The cat was speaking to him normally, as if he was talking to another person. Not...not a madman.

"How do you know it's a she?"

"She told me." The cat said warmly.

"You hear them."

"Aa. That I do."

"Why aren't you like me?"

"You mean why don't I want to hurt God? Or why I don't act the way you do?"

He shrugged. Did it matter? "Both."

"Ah." He paused, a knowing smile on his face. "I don't act the way you do because I like acting this way. I like to act as if nothing is wrong. I like to pretend that everything is alright, that **I'm** alright." He paused, then titled his head, the way a curious kitten would. "Don't you like to play pretend, Farf? Don't you like to play hide and seek with them, now and again?"

Another shrug. "They're always there. I don't want to hide. Hiding makes God happy. I want Him to cry."

"Why?" This time, the madman was puzzled.

"Because...Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"Why do you say that? Who told you?"

"They did."

"Aa. But they tell you a lot of things, don't they?" The cat pointed out. "I don't like to listen to them, much. I usually just let them talk in the background. I like thinking for myself."

"You do that?" The cat's smile widened and he nodded.

"Of course! It's fun!" He paused, looking at the madman in the eye. "I'll bet that it's more fun that hurting God ever can be." The madman scoffed, a mad sneer on his face.

"I doubt it." The cat shrugged, unperturbed by the sneer, which would have made others run for their lives.

"Oh well. I tried!" He said cheerfully. "I'm going to see Brad."

"You will make God cry." He stated, rather than asked. He knew what they did, the rest of the household did. And although he was the madman, he was quite aware of what goes on in the small household. Secrets don't last very long among Black.

"No." He shook his head, a dazzling smile playing across his lips. "I'm going to make someone happy."

"Making Crawford happy hurts God." He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly.

"I'll make sure Brad knows that."

"You're leaving." He stated. The brunet looked up at him, a soft smile on his face.

"Yes I am."

"You will not hurt God any longer?" The smile was still in place, but the green eyes darkened with sadness as he shook his head.

"No, I will not. Not any longer."

"You are unsure."

"They've told you." Lids closed over green eyes.

"Yes."

"They always do, don't they?" There was a hint of bitterness in his soft voice, but it was barely detectable.

"We are the same." His eyes opened once more and he looked at the madman solemnly.

"Yes we are."

"Grey does not have to disappear. They tell me that."

"Do they?" He asked curiously. "Funny." He laughed quietly. "I've always thought they want gray to disappear completely. Or at least, turn completely white."

The madman frowned, one of the voices was being more dominant than the rest. It whispered its thoughts and he voiced them aloud. "Black and white cancels out. Gray should stay. There might still be hope."

He smiled, shaking his head. "Hope is blue. Where does that fit into the equation?"

"It binds us." The madman paused for a moment, as he didn't really understand it either. "He says that it's what drives us."

"He's there with you too, isn't he?" He inhaled deeply. "He tells me that too."

"Listen." He shook his head slowly.

"No. Not this time."

"Who are you listening to now?" Green eyes turned to meet one yellow gaze.

"I don't want to listen anymore."

"Oh."

He stared at the blade in his hand. She was singing. She was calling out for gray. She was, after all, one of the voices in his head. There was only one explanation as to why she was calling for the cat.

She tasted his blood once. She tasted gray, once. Did that mean she too would go away?

The whispers in his head grew louder and a soft, female voice rose above the rest. It was delicate and yet it held firm. He could practically feel her whispering in his ears. Almost a familiar voice, but not really.

"He will return."

He blinked. But gray had said that he wouldn't return.

"He will. White and black cannot exist alone."

And she was gone again, drowned out by the rest of the whispers. If he concentrated hard enough, he might hear her again. But he knew she said what she needed to say. There was nothing else to hear.

"Farfarello?" The American was ready. Ready to leave.

"I will be ready."

"Good. The German is back. He will watch you." Cat-like yellow eye glowed brightly. The white-haired assassin shook his head.

"No. Gray watches us now. And he will return."

The American blinked, not understanding the madman's words. But then again, no one does. Well...there was that one...But he was gone, so why think about it? He straightened, he had something to do still. And demanding an explanation from a babbling Irish madman was not how he planned to spend his day.

He had someone to meet and he mustn't be late. Without another word, as detached as he always will be, he stepped out of the apartment.

The white haired assassin returned to his work, forgetting already the things that he had just remembered. Forgetting already that he had just spoken to Crawford. But he didn't forget one thing...

Gray will return.

Not too sure about how this turned out. Opinions?


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